


Self(ish)less

by OniZenmaru



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst, Depression, M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV First Person, Prostitution, Suicidal Thoughts, one or two lines but I'm still tagging it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 02:05:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10479666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OniZenmaru/pseuds/OniZenmaru
Summary: All it took was one misstep to screw everything up…but screwing up is what I do best.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the longest, single chapter fic I’ve ever written. 20k words, 37 pages, so many lost hours of sleep, and unbetaed.

I… _really_ fucked up.

The night was already shaping up to be terrible when my last client damn near choked me with his dick, because I might deep throat, but that was well past that. At least he paid. I took the money back to the dingy motel I’m staying at in order to stash it, and if I had counted correctly, I’d have enough pay for another month in the motel, the hospital bill, and spend the rest on food or whatever else. 

The motel owner really didn’t care what went on in the rooms, just as long as the cops weren’t called. It was convenient, and I was thankful that someone was at least changing the sheets while I was away.

Once properly stowed away, I took a single bill in order to buy myself a few drinks at a bar some distance away the motel. I didn’t want someone tailing me back and doing god knows what to me while I was intoxicated. I knew very well that people could be royally fucked up. The bar in question was always filled with sleazy types, so that meant it’d be easier to pick someone up. People on that side of town weren’t above paying for sex, and I usually took full advantage of that.

Before leaving I made sure to rinse my mouth out; despite wearing condoms, the lingering taste just reminds me of the depraved acts I had done and would continue to do. I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

Before I could even get to the bus stop, the ever-loving sense was slapped out of me. I could hear someone speaking, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying for a few seconds. When I finally came to my snapped back to reality, I noticed a very angry looking woman giving me a verbal lashing. After quickly asking who the hell she was, I was told that she was the wife of someone I had slept with. My first thought was ‘ _oh_ ’ followed by ‘ _how the **fuck** had she managed to find me?_ ’. She must’ve really grilled her husband to figure out where I was.

The threats of bodily harm didn’t bother me much, but her saying she’d report me to the cops if I came near her husband again made a lump form in my throat. Cops were a big no-no, because illegal prostitution wasn’t something that’d get me a simply slap on the wrists. I needed to stay out of jail, lest I miss a hospital bill. A little voice in my head told me to keep my mouth, but I couldn’t help blurt out that she should’ve been more concerned with why her husband was banging whores instead of her. The second slap hurt just as much as the first.

As soon as she stormed off, I head to the bus stop, rubbing my sore cheek as I did so. It takes the bus driver asking if I was all right for me to notice my nose bleeding, and they were kind enough to offer me some tissue. It wasn’t anything serious, and it cleared up quickly. I was thankful my shirt managed to stay clean.

I cleaned up any extra blood in the bathroom after entering the bar, and I end up seeing my reflection in the mirror. Despite getting a decent amount of sleep, I looked tired. I ignored my clear need to take better care of myself in favor of straightening myself out so I could score some extra money. That came before anything else, it always had.

I got comfortable on one of the stools at the bar since I wasn’t sure how long I’d be there, and when asked what I wanted from the bartender I ordered a Mai Tai. I wasn’t the biggest fan of alcohol unless it was sweet, though Vodka seemed to be the only exception. I nursed the single drink until I was pulled such a fucked up situation; and I think did a pretty damn good job of keeping myself together throughout the whole ordeal, because I was so ready to punch the guy.

As soon as he took a seat next to me, I could tell he was sleazier than the guys I usually deal with, so I didn’t even consider asking him if he wanted to have a good time behind the building. I tried to ignore him, but the bastard wouldn’t keep his hands to himself. It was such a gross invasion of my personal space whenever he put his hand on me, usually on my lower back or thigh. Telling him I wasn’t interested didn’t make him waver; in fact, me rejecting him only made his advances worse. A guy that didn’t understand the word ‘no’ was scary as all Hell.

I’m sure it was when he leaned over and whispered all the filthy things he wanted to do to me that my drink was messed with, because I had been far too busy counting backwards from 10 with my eyes closed. At first I thought someone had turned up the heat in the bar, because all of a sudden I was overcome with a warmth that just didn’t seem right. I knew something was wrong when the room seemed to spin, and I felt like I was going to pass out. The only thing I could do was kick myself for not paying attention, especially since I usually kept track of my drink rather well.

I don’t remember much afterwards; there were voices around me, a hand on my shoulder, and the cool night air hitting my face. There’s a single voice trying to speak to me, but I haven’t regained enough conscience to really make out what they were saying. I feel impossibly hot, so much so that it’s kind of hard to breath, and I’m thankful the moment I can vaguely feel a cool hand against my forehead. I reminds me of home, of my mother taking care of me when I was running a fever.

If I was awake I would’ve gotten rid of those thoughts quickly, because I can’t go back to those days no matter how much I want to.

More than anything, I’m afraid of what I’ll find once I wake up. That asshole was serious about getting into my pants, and there was absolutely nothing I could do if he decided to take me wherever and fuck me over. Or something worse…I could wake up in a bathtub missing an organ. A majority of the possible outcomes were pretty bad, and I just hope I can get through it.

There’s a flash of light before everything goes black again, and after another short bought of awareness I notice a ceiling. God this is awful…and the sound of me groaning just drives home the point. I’m not sure how much time has passed since I saw that quick flash of a light, but at least my sense of touch is slowly coming back so I can feel around. Whatever I’m lying on is extremely uncomfortable, and my first thought is I’m on a couch. On top of it being lumpy there’s something solid jabbing into my back, and the fabric it’s made of sticks to my skin slightly.

I need to get a hold of myself, but fully waking up seems like the hardest thing in the world right now. Blacking out again would be easy, would prolong finding out what my mishap had led to. However, stalling isn’t going to do me any good, especially since it leaves me completely helpless for another…god how long have I been out? That itself is enough of a reason to get up, and I know the sooner I face whatever has happened to me, the sooner I can deal with it. So the moment I see the flash of light again, I will myself to focus on it so it can pull me out of this haze.

Everything is a bit blurry, but at least I can make out the ceiling again. It looks…weird. My vision starts to clear up as I turn my head to the side, and I’m met with what looks like the back of a chair. Weird ceiling, a light on said ceiling, a random chair, and my uncomfortable state tells me I’m in a car. It takes a moment for me to get on my hands and knees, but once I do I peer out of the window nearest to me. 

Well, the car isn’t moving, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling like I want to puke. Groaning, I end up lying back against the seat, and I do everything within my power to keep everything down.

“Hey, are you okay-?”

The scream I make is a cross between pure terror and a very broken, very loud ‘FUCK’. I end up scrambling for the car door, which is a huge mistake because my nausea becomes unbearable. Since I really don’t want to vomit in someone’s car (lest I have to pay for the cleanup), I fumble around with the door handle, and I manage to get the door open just in time for me to puke on the

It’s only a few seconds, but my eyes start to water and my nose runs a bit, and I’m sure I look like an absolute mess. My body shakes as I close the door, and I end up sinking back into the seats so I can gather myself. I try and hide my shame by slinging one of my arms over my face…I really feel like crying, because this situation is the worst.

“…Here,” comes the voice from before, and I can’t help but flinch.

Peeking out from under my arms, I see a hand holding a tissue box. I hesitate, but end up taking a few so I can clean my face.

“How do you feel? I would’ve taken you to the hospital, but you said not to.”

Yeah, I really don’t remember that.

“I feel like shit…” I say, and I cringe at how shot my voice sounds.

I haven’t actually gotten look at who’s in the car with me, but their voice doesn’t sound like the pervert from the bar. So…that’s a plus I guess? I try to sit up, slowly this time, and manage to get myself into an upright position. Everything goes a bit blurry again, but once my vision clears up I finally get a look at whoever is speaking. He’s leaning against the center console, glasses slightly ajar, and I figure he was startled from my screaming. I can tell he’s older than me, and he’s well built since it looks like his shirt is about five seconds away from ripping.

Sharp jaw, blond hair, deep blue eyes…yeah, this guy is attractive.

“W-What happened?” I mutter while averting my eyes, and I figure it’s the drug in my system causing me to feel turned on.

“You didn’t look so hot, and the guy next to you was clearly going to take advantage of you while you were drunk- “

“Roofied.”

“What?”

“I wasn’t drunk, he put something in my drink…” I can’t help but kick myself again for being so careless.

The guy gives me a surprised look which quickly turns into pity, and really, I don’t blame him.

“I…see. Well I helped you outside after dealing with that handsy guy. He really didn’t want you to go with me, but after I flashed my badge he didn’t object anymore,” the guy says, and instantly my blood runs cold.

A badge usually meant a cop. He’s not in uniform, but off duty or not I’m still on edge. I try to hide it, though the officer quirks his brow.

“Ah, I know people get nervous when I mention I’m a cop,” he says as he rubs the back of his neck, “sorry about that.”

I give off a hum of acknowledgment, but his words do nothing to calm my unease. He asks if I’ve reconsidered going to the hospital, and I simply answer no. Of course I’m suddenly struck with a wave of nausea just as I say, and I end up lying back down on the seat as a long groan escapes me. The cop doesn’t say anything to me, and I’m grateful since I’m not entirely sure I’d be able to respond. 

I feel like the moment I open my mouth I’d end up vomiting again. My body starts to burn up again, but at least the seat is cool so I press my forehead against it. Thankfully the nausea goes as quickly as it comes, and I manage to get myself back into a sitting position without too much trouble.

“Maybe I should- “

“No, just…” I try to think of the best thing to call my friend’s place, since it’s certainly not my home nor do I want it to be.

Instead I just give the cop the address, and it looks like he’s about to reconsider before he lets out a huff. The entire ride I lean against the car door, cheek pressed against the window in an attempt to cool myself down. I feel terrible; I really want to get some sleep and just forget about the night. At the very least, I’m happy nothing happened to me…but I might not be so lucky next time. I’ll skip that bar from now, which isn’t a big deal. Someone always wanted a quick fuck, I just have to find them elsewhere.

I barely notice the car stopping until the cop tells me that we’ve arrived. The moment I step out of the car, the scenery begins to spin as I stand on shaky legs. I definitely got up too fast. There’s a hand on my shoulder, and I’m given a look of concern by the cop as he asks if I need help getting to ‘my’ apartment. The guy is trying his best to help me, I’ll give him that…but I’m still on edge about the whole cop thing, so I just want to distance myself as much as possible from him.

“I’ll be fine from here,” I lie, and the cop lets go of my shoulder hesitantly.

“If you’re sure…” he says slowly, “I’ll take my leave then.”

Before he can get back into his car, I call out to him.

“Hey, um,” I suddenly feel very embarrassed, “thank you…for helping me out. I can only imagine the things that could’ve happened to me if you didn’t, so…thanks.”

He gives me a small smile, and says anyone would’ve helped me in that kind of situation. It’s a nice thing to say, utter bullshit, but still nice. Everyone in the bar did what I expected of them: nothing. The cop just happened to be decent enough to put a stop to things before they got out of hand, and this more than anything shocks me. I watch as he drives off, and the moment his car is out of sight I end up slumping against the building. Three flights…I just have to climb those three flights of stairs and then I can rest comfortable.

My steps are heavy, and I grip the railing in an attempt to keep myself upright. One…Two…One…Two…Any faster than this will probably cause my head to spin again, but ugh…it’s going to take me forever to reach their apartment like this. I take a deep breath and put all my focus into moving my legs; maybe if I motivate myself as a distraction the walk won’t seem so bad. _Maybe_. I remind myself once more that it’s only three flights of stairs, stairs I’ve climbed plenty of times before. And hell, I hadn’t been sober for some of the previous times too.

The thought is enough to get me up two flights, but the third…I have to stop and lean against the railing. I can…I can do this. Taking a few deep breaths, I force my body up those last goddamn stairs. My stomach churns, my head throbs, and I feel like I’m going to pass out any second, but I keep moving. 

I don’t have time to feel victorious as I head down the hall in the direction of the apartment, and as I quickly fumble around in my pockets for the spare key, I pray I make it in there before I hit the floor. Leaning against the door, I attempt to slip the key into the lock, and I’m frustrated I miss not once, not twice, but _three times_.

I cannot believe this shit…

With a frustrated groan, I try one more time, and as soon as I get the key into the lock I feel like crying for a second time tonight. I stumble into the apartment and make sure to lock the door before making a beeline for the couch. The groan I give off as I plop down on the cushions sounds pathetic, but I really don’t care as I bury my face into the couch’s softness. I stay like that for a good minute before I hear footsteps.

“Rough night?”

“’Rough’ would be an understatement…”

I go over everything with Alvin, from the woman slapping the Hell out of me, to the decent cop that had dropped me off. Turing my head, I see him give me a sympathetic look.

“Yeah, sounds pretty shitty…you want anything?” he asks, and a shake my head.

He tells me to get some sleep as he lets out a long sigh, and before he leaves I apologize for coming over unannounced, adding that I’ll make up to him and Jude. He tells me I can crash whenever I wanted, but it still does nothing to feel any less like a freeloader.

I’ll make them breakfast in the morning, but for now…sleep.

* * *

_The best way to describe my life leading up to this point would be ‘average’. In fact, it’d probably be the best way to describe me._

_Growing up I never really excelled in anything, from schoolwork to sports I was always right there in the middle. I guess I could’ve put in more of an effort, but I always felt that’s where I belonged: neither surpassing anyone nor being beneath them. Though I was content with mediocrity, my brother wasn’t. Despite being twins, Victor was better than me._

_Even when we were kids, he always did his best and deserved all the recognition he got. Our house had been stockpiled with awards he’d won ever since kindergarten, and it never bothered me that the people around us always showered him with praise._

_Of course, I always overheard what those same people said about me; ‘why isn’t Ludger like this brother?’, ‘I feel so sorry for Victor, having a brother like that’, ‘I’m sure if he applied himself more he’d be more like Victor’, and so on and so forth. I understood why they said what they did, but I never did anything to improve myself. Maybe it was because Victor told me I didn’t have to strive for anything I didn’t truly wanted, or maybe it was because I hated the thought of people pitting us against one another, but whatever the case I could easily brush aside their words._

_I did, however, always wondered if Victor looked down on me. He never said or showed that he felt I was an embarrassment to him, though I never stopped me from wondering all throughout out younger years. Even if the sting of other’s words never really got to me, the thought of my own twin hating me always made me feel terrible. I valued his opinion of me more than those of random adults, because he was my twin, someone I shared a bond no one else understood. For him to hate me…I didn’t know what I’d do with myself._

_Once in high school he began to dye his hair jet back, and some part of me thought it was because he wanted to distance himself from me. I never uttered a word about my concerns, but Victor always knew what I was thinking. He shut down whatever worry I had, saying he had dyed his hair so I could have a chance at being my own person. He wanted people to see me as ‘Ludger’ and not ‘Victor’s underachieving brother’. I would always be thankful he did that for me._

_Because children were cruel, my brother was ridiculed for his sudden change by our classmates, and since he had done something for me I had wanted to return the favor. I ended up dyeing my bangs black, and Victor had laughed at me for a solid three minutes. People called us a ‘strange pair’ because of our appearances, as well as our standoffish nature, but the ridicule of my brother stopped so I could deal with being seen as weird._

_I had very few friends in high school because of my disposition, but I valued the ones I had. Nova was the closet to me; she was eccentric, chatty, obnoxiously talkative, and always tried to brighten the mood. I liked being around her, and it didn’t at all surprise me when I developed a crush on her. Since I feared rejection, confessing had been out of the question, because the last thing I wanted was for things to be awkward between us. When she kind of jumped me one day during our senior year, and I figured it’d be a good chance to get my feelings out._

_But once again a confession never came, and it was for an entirely different reason. The sex felt…strange, and it wasn’t until it was over that I realized as few things about myself. For one, I concluded my feelings for Nova were merely an infatuation, and my interest leaned more towards men than women. Thankfully our relationship didn’t change all that much, though she did tease me a bit about how terrible I was in bed._

_I ended up confiding in my mother about my attraction to men, and like always she told me the usual: everything would be all right. She always encouraged me and Victor, and she never looked at me like I was the family embarrassment. She saw us as equals, and would constantly tell me there was nothing wrong with going at my own pace. Our mother was the sole provider of the household, and our father was always an iffy subject. The man had never been a part of our lives, and whenever we asked about him, our mother would either dodge the question or flat out tells us he ‘didn’t matter’._

_After a while, Victor and I stopped asking._

_Because she was the only one paying the bills, our mother worked two jobs to make sure we could live comfortable, but it was always a source of concern for me and my brother. So, when Victor got himself a college scholarship out of town, I knew what I had to do. The two of them were against me working right out of high school, especially my mother since she had wanted me and my brother to get the most out of life. We didn’t have the money for something like that; Victor was guaranteed a free college education if he kept his grades up, and something like that wouldn’t be hard for him to do._

_As for me…my options were limited because I was average. Working was a good way for me to do something with my mediocre life, and it would also allow me to help my mother pay the bills. She begrudgingly allowed me to do as I pleased after hearing my reasoning. I started work at a local restaurant shortly after Victor left for college, and even though it was hard at first, I ended up enjoying it._

_A year later I was promoted from busboy to waiter, and it quickly became apparent the position was a lot more hectic than my previous position. I was up for the challenge, and the staff always praised me for being a quick learner. My mother always fussed over me for working too hard, and I in turn did the same to her. Despite my joking tone, I really was serious about her potentially overworking herself. Her constant reassurance did little to put my mind at ease, especially when I started to notice that something was wrong._

_I caught her on more than one occasion spacing out, like her mind had gone somewhere else completely. At first I thought she just needed more sleep, but when she began to talk about things I couldn’t comprehend I knew sleep wasn’t the answer. It started slowly with her hearing things, like me calling for her despite not being in the house. I didn’t think much of it until the voices seemingly changed into people. She’d hold an entire conversation with someone she believed was there, but to me it looked like she was talking to air. I didn’t know what to do, and it…it scared me._

_When I tried to convince her what she was experiencing was all in her head, she’d get agitated, so much so she’d accused me of lying. I was so at a loss that I ended up calling Victor, something I hated doing because I knew how busy he was with school. But I knew I needed help, and he was the only person I could think of. After I called and told him everything, my brother went quiet, but after the moment passed, he told me he’d be there the next day. Unfortunately, it wasn’t soon enough._

_The next morning, I found her sobbing at the kitchen table, and upon approaching her she hugged me tightly. She told me that she was worried about Victor, that he hadn’t been home, and that she believed someone had taken him. I was completely floored; it was like she had completely forgotten Victor had gone away for college._

_The only thing I could do was reassure her that no, my brother was fine and that she’d see him very soon. It took an hour for her to calm down, and we were both shaken up from the experience. She seemed to be back to her usual self, and though I was reluctant to let her, she got herself ready and left for work._

_It’s a moment I still regret to this day, because if I had made her stay I could’ve helped her like I had that morning. Since I had taken the day off so I could wait for Victor, I spent most of my time on the couch, my stomach churning uncomfortable with worry. Not knowing what was wrong with my mother tore me up inside, but I believed having my brother back would’ve help her in some way. Three hours later the phone rang, and I expected it to be Victor saying he had arrived at the bus station._

_But it wasn’t._

_The call had come from the hospital, and the doctor on the other end told me that they had detained my mother. She had apparently had an ‘episode’ and lashed out at a customer, accusing them of taking her son after stalking him for a month. I was told to come to the hospital as soon as possible, and I had never run so quickly in my entire life. Upon making it there, the doctor who had called me took me aside to explain my mother’s condition. More shocking than being told she had schizophrenia was being told that she had been dealing it for a long time._

_I recalled her taking medication, but I never bothered to ask what for. She had been sick the entire time and neither my brother nor I noticed…and really, I think she wanted it that way. My mother was trying her best for me and Victor, trying to keep herself together so she could take care of us. I didn’t need to hear stress had worsened her condition, making the medication she used useless._

_Before hearing what else the doctor had to say, I made a phone call to Victor to tell him about everything that’d happened. When my brother arrived at the hospital, he was eerily quiet, but I understood that it was his way of taking the situation in. We were told that because she was seen as a danger to herself and others, our mother would have to be committed to a psychiatric hospital in order for her to get the help she needed._

_It was a nice place; the staff was kind and answered all our questions, and the room my mother would stay in was well kept. Despite how decent everything was, I didn’t want to leave my mother there, I…wanted her home. When she began to apologize to us for being a failure of a mother, I completely broke down._

_She hadn’t failed us; she had done her best given the circumstances, had put on a brave face so we didn’t know she was sick. To me, she had been everything but a failure. I made sure to visit as often as I could, sometimes with Victor in tow. Our mother was always happy to see us, even when she was out of it._

_She was making progress, but like everything else, it had a price. A literal price. I’d been told our insurance company would only fully pay for the first six months of my mother’s treatment, and after they’d only cover half. Because Victor only worked part time and needed what money he made for rent, I took it upon myself to deal with the payments. I ended up getting another job, but no matter how hard I worked myself, how many overtime shifts I took, it was clear I wouldn’t be able to pay the amount that was owed._

_The thought of not paying made me ill, because the last thing I wanted was for my mother to be kicked out when she was doing so well, or placed in a bottom of a barrel facility. I had to do something so my mother could continue to receive the care she needed, and at that point I was willing to do_ anything _. As if someone was listening, and opportunity presented itself to me, but taking it meant I’d have to throw away both my morals and dignity. I was used to being hit on when I worked, though it never turned into anything serious and I usually tried to get a bigger tip out of the costumer by playing along. But one occasion was different._

_During one of the slower nights, a guy had come in by himself, and after a while it became clear he wasn’t there for the half-priced drinks. He came on strong, and like usual I went with it because I needed a decent tip. When I brought him the check, he asked if he could have my phone number, and it really hadn’t surprised me. I turned him down just like the others, but before I could leave he pushed a small stack of bills across the table. He told me we could do something that didn’t require my phone number, and as I looked between the money and him I knew he wasn’t tipping me._

_He was trying to buy me, or rather, buy what I could give him._

_I was appalled at first, and who wouldn’t be? A guy I didn’t know had asked me to fool around with him for money, and had I been a different person, a person who only had to care for themselves, I would’ve told him to leave without hesitation. However, I wasn’t that kind of person; I was a guy trying to scrape together enough money so his mother could continue her treatment. What the guy was offering me totaled more than I had earned in tips that entire week, and I couldn’t believe I was actually thinking of accepting. I wanted to laugh at how pathetic I felt…but instead I followed the guy out of the restaurant._

_My first time with a man was in the back of a beat-up car that smelled like cheap air freshener and cigarettes. It was awful, it hurt, I hated the sound of the guy panting against my neck, and I regretted even thinking it was a good idea. Whenever it was all over, he paid me a bit extra since it was clear I was a ‘virgin’, and as I watched his car disappear into the night, a wave of disgust washed over me. I had never felt so used before, but as I looked down at the money in my hand, a lump formed in my throat._

_If some random guy paid me that much for a quick fuck, what would other people pay? I actually did end up laughing because I was seriously considering selling myself for money. No matter how dirty it was, money was money. I stood in the same spot trying to figure out what would become of my life, and in the end, I knew what a mediocre, no talent person like me had to do._

_The moment I made up my mind, a little piece of me died._

* * *

I don’t want to get out of bed again. After coming back to the motel, I plopped down on my squeaky bed and contemplate what I’m in store soon. I think about just leaving for a bit, just long enough for Victor to get the hint I don’t want to talk. But I know Victor, I know how stubborn he can be, and my brother always seems to get his way through sheer persistence. It’s an endearing quality, but one that’s a real pain in the ass. I know what he wants to talk about, but it’s the last thing I want to deal with.

Since it’s Saturday, I had gotten up early so I could visit my mother. I made myself look as presentable as possible, because she might’ve been sick but she was still my mother. She still fussed over me, asked if I was eating properly, and told me to not overwork myself. I never spoke about the filthy things I did for money, so she was under the impression I still worked at the restaurant. My mother didn’t need to know…she’d only blame herself if she did, believing she had driven me to it. The decision had been mine alone, nothing more nothing less.

I wasn’t surprised to see Victor waiting for me, and despite being happy to see my brother, a part of me didn’t want to deal with him. Three months into whoring myself out, I told him about my illicit activities…understandably, he didn’t take it well. At first Victor was surprised, but it quickly turned into anger. It wasn’t the first time he’d yelled at me, but it was the first time I had seen him look genuinely disappointed in me. It’d be a lie to say his words didn’t hurt, and the whole experience had left me shaking.

Victor didn’t speak to me for a whole month, and I had been so afraid I’d never seen him again. I knew things would be different the moment he finally came back, and I had no one to blame but myself. My brother snapped at me more, and acted as if my very presence irritated him. I withdrew from him a bit, though not entirely, because despite how angry he was with me, how disgusting I knew he saw me, Victor didn’t hate me.

If he didn’t hate me, there was a chance I could make things right at some point…

My mother was having one of her good days; she talked to us about whatever happened during the week, and she even showed us a picture of a cat they had brought in for animal therapy. I brushed her hair all the while, and Victor did everything within his power to avoid making eye contact with me. My brother talked about his college life, and I lied about how work was going at the restaurant, the same lie I’ve been spewing for the past two years.

All in all, it was a relatively normal visit, but I was caught off guard when Victor grabbed me by my arm as soon as we stepped out of the hospital. He stared at me for a few seconds before saying he’d stop by my place in two hours, and I as much as I wanted to turn him down, my mouth had become too dry to do so.

It’s getting closer to two hours, and I haven’t really moved since coming back. I can’t even pretend to be asleep once he comes since he has a key to the goddamn room. So, I stare at the door, one hand clenching the pillow beneath my head as I chew on my bottom lip in anticipation. Shit…I hate this feeling. I damn near bite through my lip the from the sudden knock that comes from the door, and I swallow hard before sitting up. I slowly get to my feet, and I can’t believe I’m actually shaking.

God how pathetic am I? Even though I know my trembling isn’t out of fear, seeing my brother shouldn’t make me like this. Walking over to the door, I try to steady my hand before placing it on the doorknob, and I can hear my heart beating in my ears as I undo the lock. As I open the door, all it takes is a glance to see it’s Victor and I’m moving out of the way to allow him in. He doesn’t say a word as he enters, and as I lock the door back I hear the bed squeak. I let out a shaky breath before turning around, and I hesitate for a few seconds before making my way over to my brother.

Seating myself on the bed, I make sure there’s a good distance between us. The air is tense, and from the corner of my eye I can tell Victor is staring at me.

“…When are you going to stop this nonsense?” he asks, and he doesn’t bother to hide the irritation in his voice.

“You know when…” I mutter, and I know it’s not what he wants to here, it never has been.

We’ve had this conversation numerous times, and even if I worded it differently, my response is the same. When my mother is finally released from the hospital, when she’s stable and able to manage her condition, then and _only_ then will I stop whoring myself. There’s no telling how long it’d be, and I’m sure that’s another reason Victor gets so mad at me…I can’t give him a proper timeframe.

Things go quiet, and I fidget as the heavy feeling in the air worsens. I don’t know which Victor I’m going to get now; because when things got like this he could be very unpredictable. Would it be the angry Victor who would hit and yell at me, or the silent Victor who would stare me down before leaving the room so I could drown in self-pity?

As soon as the collar of my shirt is grabbed, I know which I’m getting. He’s pissed, and from the look in his eyes I can tell he’s a few seconds away from punching me. I try to look away, but the moment I do he shakes me, which means he wants all my attention…and don’t choice but to give it to him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” The grip he has on my shirt tightens, and he roughly grabs my cheeks with his free hand, “Do you think mom would want your dirty money if she knew? Or is the money just an excuse and you’re a slut who likes sleeping with random men? Is that it, Ludger? Well? Answer me goddammit! Tell me why out of all the things you could’ve done, being a prostitute seemed like the best fucking idea-!”

“ _Because I’m not you_.”

Victor wanted me to be my own person, and despite how content I am being average, a part of me wants to be more. Why wouldn’t I? Ever since our mother was hospitalized, it dawned on me how limited my options truly were. Because I never strived for more, I couldn’t help her, and it pained me to think that if I tried a little harder, had a little foresight, maybe I could’ve gotten a legal, well-paying job. 

My brother isn’t stuck like me; he has limitless potential which could open doors to opportunities I can only dream of. I hate throwing something like that in his face, but it’s the truth. I’m not like him, so I have to do whatever I can to keep my mother in that hospital, even if it meant being used like a fuck toy.

My brother gives me a hard look before closing his eyes, and after a few long breaths he looks at me again. There’s still anger in his eyes, but now it’s mixed with sadness, annoyance, and above all, pity. His annoyance is probably due to his lack of understanding, because he can’t comprehend the desperation which had brought me down such an immoral path…he doesn’t know what it’s like run out of options.

Slowly reaching up, I gently place my hands on his wrists, and with a shaky sigh he begins to let me go. I takes his hands into mine, and I can feel the tension in his body begin to let up. He presses our foreheads together, and I know it’s his way of apologizing to me. No matter how harsh his words are, I know Victor is worried about my wellbeing.

Anything could happen to me no matter how careful I am, the bar incident last month proved this, and there’s always the chance I pick up the wrong guy and end up dead in a ditch somewhere. Telling him I know the risks won’t be enough, and if anything, I should be the one apologizing. After a minute goes by, my brother finally back away from me, and I can’t help but feel a little cold.

“…I’ll come visit next week,” he says while standing, “don’t do anything stupid, Ludger.”

I watch as he walks over to the door, and he seems to hesitate before unlocking it. As soon as the door closes behind him, I lie back on the bed, emotionally exhausted. Maybe a little sleep will do me some good, so I make myself comfortable in the middle of the mattress as I wrap my blanket around me.

Sleep comes easy, and I’m thankful I don’t dream about anything. When I do, they’re usually about the past; if things had been different, I wonder where I’d be. Maybe promoted to chef at the restaurant I use to work at, but that seems a bit farfetched since I’m a decent cook at best. 

Victor wouldn’t be upset with me, so we could go back to the close relationship we had as children. My mother would probably still be sick, but at least I’d have the means to take care of her, and maybe even convince her to quit one of her jobs. I know not the dwell on wishful thinking for too long, so whenever those pleasant dreams seized me, I tried my best to wake myself up.

I’m not sure how long I slept, but upon waking up I still feel drained. Food…maybe food will help. I need to restock the minifridge anyways, so I figure I could pick up something to eat before heading to the grocery store. I slip out of bed and head towards the bathroom to make myself look decent. 

Turning the sink faucet on, I splash a bit of water on my face, though as I catch a glimpse of myself I know there’s not enough water in the world to truly get rid of how tired I look. It doesn’t take long for me to dry my face off and fix my hair, and I make a mental note to buy a brush for my mother.

She’s allowed to have personal items like that now, and I had promised to get her a nice one and help her with her hair. I heard Victor mutter something about makeup, but I’m not sure if her privileges went that far. Once out of the motel I make my way over to the bus stop, and since the sky is still painted an orange red I know which bus driver will pick me up. It doesn’t take too long for the bus to arrive, and the old man behind the wheel tips his hat in greeting.

He’s pretty nice, and when it was just the two of us, he liked to talk about the little girl he took care of from time to time. It was easy to tell he spoiled her, though his kindness apparently hadn’t turned her into a brat. Since we’re not the only ones on the bus, I give him a small smile before taking an empty seat.

The rocking of the bus threatens to send me back to sleep, and I’m sure the bus driver would wake me up when he reached my stop. But I keep myself awake by muttering everything I need to buy at the store. The ride lasts about twenty minutes, and I give the bus driver a wave as I getting off at my stop. It’s a bit warm, but not like it had been during the beginning of the week. Fickle weather usually meant slower business, but I have ways of dealing with it.

I’m not exactly sure what to eat, so wandering seems like the best option. I pass a couple of sit-down eateries, but they’re a bit out of my price range. Maybe fast food?

“Hey!”

I stop in my tracks, though I’m sure I’m not the one being addressed. Why would I be? But before I can take a step, whoever calls out again, and this time I end up turning around. I lock eyes with the person, and the shock I feel stops me from identifying them right away. I wonder if they’re one of the guys I’ve slept with in the past, though if they want another quick fuck there are far more discreet ways of getting my attention.

I focus on the glasses, the shirt that looks too tight, and the blond hair…

“Oh…you’re the cop from the bar,” I say, and I don’t mean to sound so surprised.

“Yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck as he clears his throat. “So, um…how are you? I hope that guy isn’t harassing you anymore.”

“I haven’t been back there, so I’ve been fine. And thanks again for helping me out.”

He smiles a little, though he seems to hesitate for a moment before speaking.

“I never got your name before. I’m Julius by the way.”

“It’s Ludger.”

“Ah…well Ludger, I’m, um, heading to a coffee shop nearby, so if you’re not busy right now-”

Holy shit…he’s basically asking me out. What’s really surprising is the fact that he’s seen me at my absolutely worst, tears and snot running down my face as I puked; yet he still thinks I’m attractive enough to ask me out for coffee. I end up giving off a chuckle, but I’m not laughing at him, I’m laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Out of all the people that could approach me like this, a cop is the last on the list. Since this seems like a good chance to mooch a little, I tell Julius I’m free for the rest of the afternoon, so I don’t mind getting some coffee with him.

“Great, the café is this way.”

I follow him, and I’m still bewildered about this whole situation. I mean, the guy is good looking, but he’s still a cop. I’m not dumb enough to let it slip that I’m a prostitute, but he still makes me feel uneasy…

As soon as we step into the café, my nose in assaulted with the scent of coffee and pastries, though I get used to it by the time we reach the counter. Julius orders black coffee while I order a caffe latte with extra whip cream, and since I do want something of substance, I get a muffin as well. Julius says he’ll wait for the drinks, so I take my muffin so I can find us a table. There aren’t too many people around, but I’m not the biggest fan of crowds so I pick a table near the back. Taking a seat, I start to pick at my muffin, and…damn, it tastes pretty good.

I glance at the counter and see Julius chatting it up with one of the employees, and it’s hard not to notice how broad his back is. What little I saw while in the back of his car only told me he was well-built, but actually seeing this guy’s body in the light is a whole different experience. After a few seconds, I turn away in favor of staring out the nearby window, not because I’m embarrassed, but because I need to figure out what kind of direction I want this situation to head in.

He wants the same thing as all the other men I’ve run into, though instead of asking ‘how much?’, he’s buying me a drink. I know how it sounds; but after a while you start to realize that people usually tick the same way. Now I have to decide if I let him chat me up, or tell him I know what he wants so he doesn’t need to beat around the bush.

“Here,” I look up just in time to see Julius hand me my drink, and I mutters a small ‘thanks’ as he seats himself across form me. I watch as he rips the tops of two sugar packets and pour them into his drink.

“So you like sweets-?”

“You know,” I say after taking a long sip of my drink, “if you wanna sleep with me just say so, you don’t have to play the ‘nice guy’ role.”

Julius gives me a look of surprise, which I expect. Being blunt gets everything out there, shows I know what he’s doing, and forgoes the twenty questions game we were about to get into. Why bother with them? Since this is going to be a one-night stand, why didn’t he just take me back to his place so we could fuck? Everything else seems so…extra. I mean, I could’ve treated this like something more, something different from what those random men on the street game me, but I didn’t want to disillusion myself. Just because I’m not being paid for it, doesn’t mean this should be ‘special’.

He gets over his shocked quickly, though I’m not sure why he looks so amused. Setting his drink down, Julius coughs into his fist, and I swear I hear him give off a small laugh as he does so.

“’Act’, huh? I wouldn’t call it an act, it’s more…” he trails off a bit, like he’s trying the find the right words “I like to get to know guys before taking them to my apartment, if only a little.”

It isn’t unreasonable, but I just gave him a chance to skip all that, and yet…he still wants to talk. It takes a moment for me to gather myself, because I’ve honestly never been in this situation before. With Nova, it just kind of happened, and we were already friends so there was no need to talk beforehand. 

So, this is…odd. Nipping at my bottom lip, I hesitate to say anything for a moment, but the small ‘I guess so’ I let out makes me sound scared. Okay, I _am_ a bit scared. Being open to a random stranger doesn’t sit easy with me, but it’s not like he’ll be asking for my life story.

“I asked for you name before, why not ask me something?” Julius asks before he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Um…how long have you been a cop?” I ask, and the awkwardness in my voice causes me to flinch.

“Seven years. How old are you?”

“…17.”

He gives me a look of horror, and I’m pretty sure the color has drained from his face. Despite how humorous I find it, I know I should stop fooling around before the poor guy has a heart attack.

“Okay, bad joke. I’m 21, honest. I know the bar we met in is shady, but they do check ID.” I say, and I don’t even bother to hide the amusement in my voice.

He gives me a pointed look before sighing deeply, and I think he’s more relieved than mad at me. As strange as it is, my scare seems to serve as an icebreaker; I feel a little more willingly to talk than before, though I still have a few reservations. We bounce questions off one another, just basic stuff like favorite colors and genre of music. I clam up if the question is a bit personal, but Julius seems to catch on quick and asks me something else.

We keep going for some time, and upon looking out the window, I’m surprised to see the sun has finally set. I can easily say this is the longest I’ve spoken to someone before having sex with them, but then again I keep comparing this to my prior encounters. This isn’t for money, this is for…well, this is for fun. Now that I think about it, I haven’t had sex for the Hell of it in a while. 

Maybe this is something I need; to just screw around with someone so I can take my mind off everything. I can allow myself this one selfish act.

“Let’s get out of here,” Julius says, and my stomach suddenly tightens up.

I can’t help but feel nervous, especially with the look Julius is giving me. I’m used to other men looking at me like a piece of meat, but this look…it’s like he sees me as something to be desired and not just fucked. Honestly, it’s weird, and I can’t help but fidget under his gaze. 

Swallowing hard, I tell him that going to his place sounds great, and the two of us toss our cups before heading out the door. The cool air nips at my skin, and I sort of regret not wearing something warmer. Julius says his apartment isn’t far, and I’m both thankful and anxious after he says that.

I follow behind him, and I kind of wonder if he can tell I’m enjoying the sight before me. Every time he moves I see his muscles flex, and my nervousness begins to turn into eagerness. I really, really want to rip that shirt off of him, because _holy shit_ , if he looks like that with it on, what does he look like with it _off_? The thought goes straight to me dick, and I force myself to look away so I don’t end up with a tent in my pants.

It’s about a five-minute walk from the café to Julius’ apartment complex, and we end up taking the stairs since the elevator is out. With each flight of stairs we climb, the knot in my stomach tightens, and I fear vomiting at this point. I try and steady my breathing so it doesn’t happen, though it only does so much since I’m back to staring at Julius’ back. 

I almost let out a groan, but manage to cover it up by coughing. God, I’m acting so pathetic; it’s just sex, and it’s not the first time I’ve done it with an attractive guy. Maybe it’s because he actually knows stuff about me, trivial stuff, but still. Hell, he knows my _name_.

I’m so lost in thought that I run into someone solid, and it takes me a second to realize it’s Julius’ back.

“Sorry for stopping so suddenly, but we’re here,” he says, and I look around his shoulder to see him fiddling with his keys.

As soon the door is open, I follow him inside the dark room, and I squint a bit as the lights are turned on suddenly. It looks like a decent size apartment, though before I can investigate further, Julius presses me against his body. He runs his thumb over my bottom lip, and I dart my tongue out to gently brush against it. This I know how to do; I might not be the best at seducing, but I know how to go with the flow, how to gauge what someone likes. I can tell he likes this, though I only get a few licks in before he pulls his hand away. He tilts my chin up, and-

‘ _Oh my god…_ ’ is the only thing I can think as he brings his chapped lips to mine, my body instantly tensing up from shock. The random guys never kissed me, and I never kissed them unless I was explicitly told to, so this really throws me off. Oh, right…I don’t need to be told anything now; this is for fun, so he could do anything he wanted, and shit, so could I. I’m not sure why I’m having such a hard time grasping this concept. Bringing my hands up, I keep repeating to myself that I don’t have to pretend here, and as I wrap my arms around Julius’ neck, pulling him closer, I finally begin to relax.

I feel one of his hands slip under my shirt from the back, and I jerk forward as he rubs my lower back. Julius breaks the kiss, and I’m disappointed, but not for long because he presses his lips against my neck. I’m not sure what to do with my hands, but I feel like I’m supposed to…Do I hold him tighter? Do I grip his shirt? Do I touch him under his shirt? Why is this so goddamn nerve-racking?! Fuck, _fuck_ , **_fuck_**. Dying seems like a much better option than dealing with this awkwardness.  

“You’re really tense,” he mutters against my skin, “is this your first time?”

“…Yeah, er, I mean sort of,” I say, and it’s not a complete lie.

“We can take it slow if you want, or just get to it, whichever is fine with me,” he says, and my breath catches in my throat as he gently runs his lips against my skin before running his teeth along it.

He’s being very…accommodating. It takes me a moment to organize my thoughts, but as I open my mouth to say that I’m kind of leaning towards slow, something brushes against my leg. Much like the night Julius had helped me out, the startled sound I make is high pitch, loud, and I end up letting out a strangled ‘SHIT’. To make matters worse, I end up clinging to Julius like my life depends on it, but I have every right to because _what the fuck touched me_?

“What are you- oh. _Oh_! I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you I have a cat,” Julius says apologetically, and my head quickly looks down at what he’s talking about.

Low and behold it’s a cat, and a rather fat one at that. It’s white with splashes of gray along its tail, the middle of its face, ears, and paws. Well, save for its right paw. I watch as rubs against my leg again before doing the same to Julius, all the while meowing loudly. Who knew cats would be so vocal.

“Er, sorry he kind of killed the mood. He’s probably hungry, so I should take care of that. My room is the door on the right, you can undress in there if you like,” he says while rubbing the back of neck, and I nod before he goes off to feed his cat.

Once again hit with how laughably absurd this all is, and as I make my way to his room, I can’t help chuckle to myself. Julius’ room is sparsely furnished, though there’s enough things inside to make it look like a room. The bed is pushed up against one of the walls, and I quirk a brow at how neatly it’s been made. Honestly, it looks like it hasn’t been slept in. 

Across from it is a desk that does looks like it’s been used, and from the number of papers and manila folders, I clearly shouldn’t investigate that area. I do notice a picture frame sitting on the desk corner- _is that photo of his cat_? _Holy shit, it’s a picture of his **cat**_ , _and it’s **not the only one**_. I try and keep my laughter in, but dammit it’s hard.

I’m about to be to fucked by a crazy cat person.

I absolutely have to call Alvin and Jude later, because I need to tell someone about this madness, someone has to fucking know.

It takes me second, but I manage to pry my eyes away from the picture. The dresser near the bed looks messy; a few of the drawers are partially open, and I can see various clothing hanging out of them. Now that I look around, there are clothes all over the floor, not enough to be concerning, but enough to make me wonder why he didn’t just pick them up. Well, he is a cop, so I guess he’s a little neglectful of his personal space. He seems like a ‘work comes first’ kind of guy.

Sitting down on his bed, I begin to slip my shirt off, and once it’s over my head I notice that I’m not alone. Julius’ cat is sitting the doorway, probably wondering what the Hell I’m doing here. We stare at one another, and I’m sure he thinks I look dumb with half of my shirt over my head. I watch as he waddles into the room, and after a second of just staring, he rubs against my right leg.

“You know, I don’t have your food,” I say while removing my shirt, and all I get is a meow in response.

I reach down to pet him, but I hear Julius call for him from I guess is the kitchen, and I now know the cat’s name is Rollo. Well, he’s certainly…roll-y. Reaching down, I undo my belt with little issue, because one thing I know is that it _can_ be a problem for someone else to take off. Er, now that it’s off…what am I supposed to do with it? Same thing goes for my shirt; tossing them on the floor seems rude, but what else is there? Sliding my pants off, I decide to fold everything before setting them aside near the bed. It still feels rude. I leave my boxers on, not wanted to be too exposed since there’s a slight chill in the air.

“Sorry again, he’s a bit of a glutton,” Julius says as he enters the room, “but that’s my fault.”

“No need to apologize, I’m pretty sure pets come before sex.”

He snorts, and it takes no time for him to bridge the gap between us. The kiss this time is open mouth, a little rougher than before, but I don’t mind. We part suddenly, but it’s apparently so Julius can remove his glasses. He sets them aside on a small nightstand next to the bed, and a second later his mouth finds mine again. I know as soon as he touches my shoulder, nudging it a bit, that he wants me to lie back. Usually the other guys just shove me down, so I can’t help but flinch at the touch, but I still do what he wants.

I let out a small noise as he runs his tongue along mine, my hands run along his broad shoulders before gripping the fabric there. Oh, he’s still wearing clothes…I should fix that. Bringing my hands down to his chest, I untuck his shirt from his pants, and my fingers fiddle with buttons while I slide my tongue along his. He obviously tastes like coffee, but there’s a hint of sweetness because of the sugar he put in his drink. I’m use to other guys tasting like cigarette smoke, so this is a welcome change.

I don’t think I should get lost in this sensation, because I want to get this guy naked as soon as possible. As soon as I undo the last button, I reach for his belt, and I’m happy to feel his hand come down to help me out. I slip my hand into his pants, fingers brushing against his hard cock, and...holy shit, he’s… _big_. I mean, it’s not the first time dealing with a big cock, but I can’t help my surprise every time I encounter one. My hand strokes him through his underwear, and Julius nips his way down my neck while letting out a low groan.

“Shit…Hang on, give me a second,” Julius says, voice a tight.

I’m sure that’s not the only thing that’s tight. I watch as he removes himself from between his legs, and I can’t help but stare as he removes his shirt. Goddamn…he does look good. My eyes move down farther as he hooks his fingers in the waistband of his pants, and with one movement he pulls down both his pants and underwear, hissing as he does so. Seeing his cock out in the open makes me to suck in a breath. I know Julius notices because of the way he smirks at me, but he doesn’t say a word as he settles between my legs again. So, he can be a smut bastard I see.

Instead of kissing me, he brings his lips against my chest, and his tongue licks my right nipple as I feel one of his hands slide my boxers off. He caresses my inner thigh, and I’m not sure what the focus on: the hand dangerously close to my groan, or his mouth teasing my nipple. I decide on both, so I thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to my chest as I buck my nips a little.

Shit, he isn’t doing much, but I already feel like I’m on fire. Foreplay didn’t exactly last long with paying customers, so I’m sure that’s why my body is reacting so strongly. I can’t help but find it funny how all the sex I’ve had over the years hadn’t given me much experience; and truthfully, the only thing I’ve learned is to spread my legs or open my mouth when told to.

If anything, it taught me just how ugly people can be.

My breath catches in my throat as Julius teases my other nipple with his free hand, rolling it between his thumb and index finger. I try and get the hand between my legs to touch my cock by bucking my hips again, but Julius keeps evading it. He’s teasing me, but it doesn’t stop me from trying to seek out his touch while whining openly. Fuck it, he’s seen me look like utter shit, so me acting needy isn’t embarrassing. So the moment I feel his hand away from my inner thigh, I whine while giving him an annoyed look, but I quickly change my tune as Julius brings my right nipple between his teeth.

I arch up against his touch, and I let out a pathetic sob as my fingers grip his hair tighter. He’s still working the other nipple between his fingers, and I shudder as he brings his hand back to my inner thigh. Like before, he simply caresses the skin there, but I suck in a sharp breath as I it moves lower than before. 

My body jerks as he finally touches my cock, and I let out a long moan as he gives me one long stroke from base to tip. His grip is loose, so I can easily rock my hips against his strokes. I let my head lull to the side as I ride wave after wave of pleasure, and god it feels good. I can feel him tighten his hold a little, thumb coming to rub under the head of my cock-

_O-Oh_ …

“A-Ah, f-fuck,” is all I can choke out as I’m hit with a sensation that’s far more intense than I’m used to.

It doesn’t help that he’s still wearing his thumb ring, and the contrast between the cold metal and his hot hands makes me shudder. I had no goddamn idea that spot was so sensitive; I can’t even get out that I want him to do it again, so I buck against him, hoping to god he understands. Thankfully he does, and I arch up the moment I feel him touch that spot again. Each touch is just as intense as the last, and it dawns on me that it feels a little _too_ good. I should stop him before he makes me come, but shit…it’s pretty hard to get anything coherent out while I’m moaning this loudly.

After a few more strokes, I slip a shaky hand between us and grab his wrist, and I take a second to catch my breath before telling him that I’m close. Julius gives me a hum of acknowledgement, and I let out a shaky breath as he lets go of my cock. He leans over the side of the bed to opens the top drawer of the nightstand, and I bite down on my bottom lip as he pulls out a bottle of lube and a condom. I watch as he quickly pops the top open, and he settles between my legs as he pours a generous amount of the bottle’s contents on his fingers.

“Relax,” he says against my lips, though I don’t get a chance to say a word once he kisses me.

I shudder the moment I feel two of his fingers rub against my asshole. It doesn’t feel like they’re trying to wiggle their way inside of me; instead they press, sometimes spreading my hole as far as it can go before stroking it again. I’ve played with myself like this before, but having someone else do it is kind of a strange feeling. But I certainly don’t hate it. Spreading my legs wider, I moan against Julius’ lips as my lower half rocks against his fingers.

I can’t help but tense the moment I feel one of his fingers begin to make its way inside me, but I start to relax the moment I feel his free hand play with my left nipple. Of course his finger didn’t go in without some resistance, but he at least has the decency to stop moving it so I can get used to the pressure. After a couple of seconds, I pull Julius closer, tongue slipping into his mouth as I move against his finger a bit. He gets the hint and start to move it, and I let out a soft moan. My own hands roam his back, and I can feel his muscles tense every time he moved. God, ther]e was something extremely sexy about that.

I barely notice the second finger inside of me, and it doesn’t burn like the first. He nips at my bottom lip and then part, though instead of licking my shoulder, Julius runs his teeth along my Adam’s apple. This guy is seriously good at finding sweet spots I’ve never been aware of. I shudder the moment he bites down, breath once again catching as he hits my prostate.

“There it is…” he says against my skin, and I let out a high pitch moan as he fingers me with a bit more force.

It’s hard to focus like this; I have to grip the sheet below me to keep from completely losing myself, though from the way his fingers move, Julius sees hellbent on bringing me to the very edge of completion. I mean…it wouldn’t be too bad coming from just his fingers, but with a cock that big, I really want to know what it feels like.

“Sh-Shit, don’t make me come yet,” I whine, and Julius begins to slow a bit. “I know you didn’t bring me back here just to finger fuck me.”

“That is true.”

“Then come on.”

To further prove how impatient I am, I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He gives my hole one more good stretch before he removes his fingers, and wet sound they make once out is so lewd that I can’t help but blush. He makes quick work of removing the condom from the wrapper, and once he rolls it on his cock, he slathers it with lube. Julius strokes my hole a few times with the tip, and I let out a shaky breath the moment he starts to push in. No matter how many times I do this, the pressure never gets any easier, so all I can do is throw my head back and mutter ‘fuck’ under my breath.

My nails dig into Julius’ back, and I try my best to not tighten my legs around his waist just yet since it’d might cause him to push in too quickly. He makes his way in inch by inch, groaning all the while. Having my ass stuffed with cock is just another thing I really don’t think I’ll get used to, or rather the initial act of it stuffing me. I feel stretched and full, but it doesn’t stop me from wiggling my hips a little in an attempt to get use to the feeling. Apparently me moving like that causes Julius to hiss, and as he gives me a sloppy, wet kiss, I feel his hand grip my hips to stop me.

“Don’t move like that, you’ll make cum before I even get a chance to move,” he says, voice strained.

“You’re big, I can’t help it,” I mutter, and I finally tighten my legs around him. “Go ahead a move.”

He stills for second, and the moment push out and then in, I feel like he knocks the wind out of me. Fuck…I'm not completely ready for that. One hand grips the sheets again, while the other holds onto his shoulders as I moan lowly. His thrusts are slow, but they’re also deep. My grip on him tightens, and my moans are muffled the moment he kisses me. It’s just as sloppy as before, but I really don’t care because just having him do it makes my head spin.

I arch up against him, body shuddering as he thrusts into me a bit faster. Good…it feels really good. I can barely bring myself to think straight, and it just gets worse grazes my prostate. Julius doesn’t hit it dead on, so of course I whine, because I _really_ don’t want to be teased might now. Everything just feels so intense, and I’m sure it’s because I haven’t let my mind wander. I usually do it when I whore myself out, because sometimes it’s the only way I can deal with the shame and disgust I feel towards myself.

Moaning loudly, I bring my arms up to pull Julius closer as he gives me ass one rough, quick thrust that catches me off guard. He pulls out before snapping his hips back in, and the third time he does it I feel absolutely _wrecked_. I call his name, or at least I think it’s his name since I keep slurring everything. Julius stops moving, and I bite down on my lower lip as I watch him sling my left leg over his shoulder. Thank god I’m flexible. His thrusts are thrusts are just as rough as before, but the new angle reaches spots that further reduce me to an incoherent mess.

As soon as he hits my prostate, I’m completely overwhelmed, and all I can do is cling to him for dear life. Though my clinging causes me to clench around him, so Julius groans lowly in my ear before fucking me with more force. I shamelessly beg for more despite the fact that I’m not even sure I can take more, and I forget to breath for a second as Julius wraps his hand around my painfully hard cock.

“G-Gonna come, _f-fuck_ , right there,” I stutter out, body shaking as I get closer to completely losing it.

Julius grunts, which is probably him acknowledging what I said. He shifts again and, fuck, fuck, **_shit_** , that’s it, I can’t take anymore. For a moment I can’t breathe, and I let out a soundless scream as I come between the two of us, back arching right off the mattress. Julius roughly grips my hips while give thrusting in one more time, burying his cock deep. I can feel it pulsing inside me, and though the condom stops him from coming inside my, the heat is damn near unbearable. My body finally goes limp against the bed, and all I can do is pant heavily while coming down from my high.

Julius slowly pulls out, and I can’t help but watch as he removes the condom from his cock and ties it up. Damn…that’s a lot of cum. I can’t bring myself to say anything, so I close my eyes as my breathing starts to even out. I feel him kiss my neck, lips trailing upward to my jaw. And just as quickly as they’re on me, they’re gone. I groan a little, but it isn’t until I open my eyes that I realize I’ve fallen asleep.

Oh…I didn’t mean to do that.

I take my time sitting up, though it doesn’t help my back too much. He was relentless, but I can’t complain since I liked it. Once fully upright, I notice there’s a blanket over me, and from the lack of drying cum on my stomach, I can tell Julius was nice enough to clean my up. Looking over, I see him asleep on his back snoring lightly, and I pry my eyes away from him so I can get out the bed. Very, _very_ slowly. I jump a little once I feel something soft and warm hit my foot, though I don’t have to look down to know it’s Julius’ cat.

I lean down to give him a scratch behind the ear, but it’s not exactly the smartest move. A jolt of pain runs up my back, and I bite down on my bottom lip to stop myself from groaning. Like before, I sit up slowly, and I rub my lower back before making another attempt to get up. My clothes are in the same spot so I don’t have go looking for them, though leaning down to get does nothing good for my back. I dress as quietly as possible, because I’ve overstayed my welcome so the last thing I want to do is wake him up-

“You heading out?”

Well that didn’t work.

“Yeah…” I say while slipping my shirt over my head.

“It’s pretty late, let me take you back to your place,” he says, and it’s clear he’s groggy.

“No, I’ll just take the bus back.”

“Then at least let me wait with you.”

I open my mouth to turn him down, but I can hear him already getting out do bed. Okay, fine, he can do what he wants. Glancing over at the clock on the nightstand, I see that it’s 2 AM, and I can’t help but wince. There goes shopping. Well, I have enough stuff to last for one more day, so I guess it isn’t a total loss. Once my pants are one and my belt buckled, I follow Julius out of the room. He’s wearing a different shirt, but it looks just as tight as the previous one.

Once he’s done dressing, I follow him out the front door, and it isn’t until we’re at the stairs that I notices his chubby cat followed us.

“Is it okay for him to come?” I ask, because I really don’t want to be the reason his precious cat runs off.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. He never wanders too far, since getting lost means not getting spoiled,” he says, and I can’t help but snort.

The night air feels nice, but I do end up rubbing my arm a little as a breeze blows by. The bus stop is a block away, and as soon as we reach it, a silence falls between us. What the Hell are we supposed to talk about? We’d gotten what we wanted out of one another, so is there any point in striking up a conversation? I bury my hands my pant pockets, content with not saying a word.

“So…it sounded like you had a good time,” he says, and my cheeks immediately goes red.

“U-Um…yeah, I did,” I mutter, and goddamn do I hate how small my voice sounds.

He chuckles, but goes silent again, and I’m thankfully because another comment like that would probably cause my entire face to light up. I’m not use to guys talking about the deed after it’s been done, other than a ‘you were good’ or ‘it was worth the money’. I tense up once I hear his voice again, and it takes me a moment to process that he’s asked for my number. I mean, I do have a cellphone, albeit a very old model, and having sex with him did take my mind off things.

But…he’s still a cop.

I say one stupid thing and that’s it; I’d be jailed for prostitution, probably for a good while, with no way to pay for my mother’s treatment. It’s damn selfish of me to throw caution to the wind because I wanted to get laid. Though tonight was about being selfish, and really, if I got him to talk about where he and his buddies patrolled, I can easily avoid being caught. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth to think that I’d be using this Julius, but as they say: desperate times.

“…Sure.”

He gives me his number so I can text him mine, and just as the bus pulls up, he tells me he’ll call tomorrow. Well, today. I give him a small smile, and I say that I’m looking forward to it, which isn’t a lie in the slightest. I don’t have shit to do after making a little money, so talking to someone would at least give me something to do other than sleep or jog around town. We say out goodbyes as I board the bus, and another wave a guilt hits me as it begins to drive off.

Goddammit, I’m terrible…

* * *

“So…you two have been seeing each other for a while, you sleep over at his place just because, cook for him, wait for him come home when he works long shifts, and feel terrible when you sleep with other people…and you consider the two of you as…?”

“Fuck buddies.”

Alvin spits his drink to the side, then puts his hand over his face as he launches into a laughing fit. Jude nudges him in the side, but it does nothing to stop him. I just get my drink and take a long sip. There’s probably a better way to phrase that, but I’m not in a sugar coating kind of mood. I figured Alvin would find this funny, and Jude looks like he’s trying to be serious despite the look of pity he’s giving me. What is so weird about me thinking that Julius and I are just fooling around? I mean, yeah, I sometimes do a little extra for him here and there, but in the end, it still leads back to sex.

Er, well…not _all_ the time. Shit, this is why I wanted to talk to the two of them in the first place, because this whole situation is confusing.

It’s been four months since I started sleeping with Julius on a regular basis, and I found out having sex because I _want to_ makes for a great stress reliever. If I was having a shit day or was just bored, I’d head over to Julius’ place, he’d fuck my brains out, and afterwards I’d get a decent amount of rest. I usually left in the middle of the night, though it took Julius pulling him back into his bed and telling me that it’s all right stay for me to do just that. Sleeping next to someone felt odd, especially since I hadn’t done it since me and Victor were kids. However, it is funny waking up with Rollo squeezed between the two of us.

Sometimes Julius wasn’t there when I woke up, and in those times, I take it upon myself to clean up his apartment a little after he gave me the ok. The man is terrible at housework, and the only reason I found out he didn’t, _couldn’t_ , cook was because of all the take out and TV dinner boxes I found in the trash for a solid two weeks. Julius freely admitted that he was a disaster in the kitchen, so I took it upon myself to cook him at least one meal that wasn’t warmed in the microwave.

All I did was make him soup since he had so many tomatoes in the fridge, and it looked like he was having a religious experience. I’m not that great of a cook, so for him to say that caused me a great deal of embarrassment. Sometimes we’d have a meal together, though that was only when he was home. Because he’s a cop, Julius’ schedule was unpredictable; there was no telling if he’d be away from his apartment for a couple of hours or days. Spending that much time away from home made him worry about his cat’s wellbeing, and since I did like the chubby feline, it was just another thing I took upon myself to handle.

Doing chores around his place gives me something to do, helped take my mind off the filthy things I do for money. Probing Julius for info about the nightly patrols he and his fellow officers went on always makes me sick, because no matter how I twisted my reasoning, I’m using him. What’s worse is…I have to. I can only be so cautious for so long before I royally slip up, so knowing what area of town I should avoid and when helped me out tremendously. I feel like I should get on my knees and apologize to him, because no one deserved to be used in such a manner.

“Alvin, don’t laugh,” Jude says while nudging Alvin in the side again.

“Can you blame me?” he asks, and it looks like he’s finally calming down. “I thought _you_ were dense, Jude, but this guy has reached a level that is so astonishing it’s teetering on praiseworthy.”

“I’m not being dense. We really don’t have a relationship outside of sex-”

“What time did he get in last night, and did you make dinner?”

“Around 3, and I mean, he was too tired to eat any of it-”

“You’re dating.”

I make a face at the smug look Alvin gives me. Yes, Julius had come back to his apartment rather late, and he barely made it out of his uniform before plopping down next to me on the couch. He made a small noise when I told him I cooked, and I figured sleep was preferable than food for him in that moment. There wasn’t anything romantic about it, so I’m not sure why Alvin jumped on that to prove that Julius and I are dating.

“You know, I came here for advice, not finger pointing.”

“I think at this point, the advice can only be finger pointing,” Jude says as he rubs the back of his neck, and he’s giving me that ‘you poor bastard’ look again.

“Come _on_ , it’s not that deep. I cook for him so he doesn’t starve, I look after his cat because I like cats, and sleeping at his place is more convenient than going back to my motel room sometimes,” I say plainly, though Jude and Alvin look at one another for a moment before bringing their attention back to me.

“Okay, then if the guy is just a quick fuck, why do you get so bent out of shape whenever you whore yourself out nowadays? You looked regretful as fuck before, but now you act like you betrayed your best friend,” Alvin says before taking a sip of his drink, and I can’t help but clench my jaw.

“Because, it’s…different,” I mutter the last part, and I hate how stupid it sounds.

But it’s the only way I can describe it. Being around Julius only made me feel worse about the stuff I did, and some days I could barely look him in the eye. Leaning back in my chair, I cross my arms while going silent, and it’s hard to deny how defensive I look.

“Y’all-” I look of embarrassment crosses Jude’s face before he coughs into his hand. “ _You two_ seem to enjoy each other’s company, so would it be so terrible if you’re dating him? I get the prostitution things is an issue, but what if you gave it up?”

“It’s not that simple…” I mutter, and I bite down on my bottom lip to stop myself from saying anything else.

I never told them the reason why I whore myself out, and I’m thankful they’ve never asked, especially since Jude could be rather nosy.

And speaking of Jude…Glancing over at Alvin, I can see him staring at him with the biggest grin on his face. When I first met Jude, two things were clear about him: he was smart, so much so that could easily graduate from college early, and he was from bumfuck nowhere. He hailed from a tiny town in the countryside I didn’t even know existed, and it was painfully obvious that he wasn’t from the city from the way he spoke. 

Most of the time he tries to hide his accent, but whenever he slips up, Alvin absolutely loves to tease him. Jude is staring straight ahead, hands grasped tightly together as his mouth forms into a thin line. He knows he fucked up.

“Anyway…” I start, hoping to distract Alvin long enough so he forgets about pestering his poor boyfriend. “He’s never brought up anything about dating or even wanting to, so I’m sure he thinks we’re just fuck buddies too.”

“Did you ask?” Jude mutters, his body finally relaxing.

“No, but-”

“Then he thinks you two are dating,” the two of them say at the same time, and I once again make a face.

“I really doubt Julius would think of dating someone as plain as me…”

“Damn, that’s some shit self-confidence you have there.”

“Well, not everyone can fake it as well as you can, Mr. Male Stripper.”

Alvin puts his hand over his heart while making a face of mock offense, and all the while Jude gives off loud snort before covering his mouth to conceal his laughter.

“I’ll have you _know_ that at least half of my confidence if real, I can’t help if I have the fake the rest of it because the audience wants to see my body. Also, don’t change the subject. You’re a good-looking guy, can make a great meal out of damn near anything, and it’s fun being around you. That’s just three things, and I’m sure Officer…what was his last name?”

“Bakur,” I say, and I can’t help but notice Jude frown a bit.

“I’m sure Officer Bakur probably has like a shit ton more positive things to say about you, so why wouldn’t he want to date you? Hell, he’s probably already head-over-heels for you, and your oblivious ass hasn’t noticed yet,” Alvin finishes, and he looks rather proud of himself, like he’s just given me some kind of profound wisdom.

Instead of brushing him off, I let myself mull over his words, but they just make the situation even more complicated. The two of us have never talked about this thing we have, and because it wasn’t brought up, I just assumed Julius was on the same page as me. If he’s not, then…I’m not sure what to do.

I can handle people wanting me just for sex, but romantically? It just seems too hard to believe, because I might’ve been attracted to someone, but I never once thought I had a chance with them. I’ve always thought being mediocre meant accepting no one will ever see anything worthwhile in me, and I have yet to be broken wrong…until now. Well, maybe, it’s all just speculation at this point…I think.

“…Are you sure it’s ‘Bakur’?” Jude asks, and I cock my left brow at his weird questions.

“Yeah, I’ve seen his badge enough to know,” I say, and I’m a little confused as I watch Jude’s frown turn into a look of concern.

“Unless they coincidently share the same last name, I think Julius is related to the Police Commissioner.”

As if this situation couldn’t get any more fucked up.

Not only is Julius a cop, but he might be a relative of the most powerful person in the police force. Placing my forehead against the kitchen table, I let out a loud groan, because this is not how I planned for this to go. I expected to get some questions answered to help clear up this feeling of confusion, but now I have even more to think about thanks to this little conversation.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, followed by Alvin saying I should give myself some time to mull over everything, and all I do is groan again in response. I don’t move for a minute, but once I finally lift my head, I mutter a small ‘thanks’ before removing myself from the table. Stepping out of their apartment, my thoughts are a jumbled mess, and I don’t know even where to begin.

Maybe…I should go and talk to Julius, since he is, after all, the source of my distress. But how do I even bring it up without things getting awkward as Hell? Groaning, I figure walking there will help clear my head a little, so I head in the opposite direction of the bus stop that’d take me back to the motel. My legs know the way, so instead I focus on the relationship Julius and I have had throughout the last four months.

‘Interesting’ is a good way to describe our time together, and because of this it’s hard to deny that Julius is a total stranger. I know things about him, things that run deeper than just his favorite color or his love of cats…but not too deep since I don’t know a thing about his family. Then again, family didn’t seem like the most appropriate topic to bring up during post sex talks. What I _do_ know about Julius is that he’s rather sharp, though if it’s a trait he’s always had or one he developed due to his occupation is something I never asked. In fact, his sharpness can be unnerving, especially on days when I’m too tried to pretend that I’m okay.

A part of me wonders if he knows and just hasn’t said anything, or if he’s suspicious that something is up because of my bullshit excuses. I blame my fatigue, irritability, and aloofness on a job I no longer have, a job I’ve only described to him as ‘at a restaurant’ without indicating which. Julius never probes me; instead, he’d watch me, like he’s searching for something in my body language since I wasn’t in a talkative mood. After a while, he’d start to touch me, but it not like when the two of us are so riled up that we can barely make it to his bedroom. The couch or the kitchen table usually became the next best thing if the situation is bad enough.

No, this touch is softer, almost like he’s afraid of hurting me. Sometimes it’d be a hand on my hip or lower back, other times he’d caress my shoulders and neck. At first I wasn’t sure what to think of it, but after a bit of thought I figured it’s his way of comforting me. I don’t hate it; in fact, I’d probably encourage him to do more if it I wasn’t so embarrassed to bring it up.

Julius really likes being in my personal space, but his presence is never overbearing. He likes to be close when we’re on the couch, and if I’m not pulled against his chest when he sleeps, he has his arm slung over my waist. I laugh a little while thinking about all the times I had to maneuver out of his hold without waking him so I could leave the bed, and thankfully I’ve gotten good enough so the bed doesn’t move all that much.

Being with Julius makes me realize how cold and isolated my motel room feels, because lying in bed by myself doesn’t compare to having him there with me. Then again, it’s my fault it’s like that; I feel the same detachment whenever I bring some stranger back there, so at least I know the reason for it. Despite how silly it sounds, Julius has kind of spoiled me, because the room no longer compares to being in his company. My pace slows as I replay those thoughts, as if I’ve figured out some kind of piece to this puzzle.

I… _like_ being around Julius, and for some reason this fills me with dread. Why? I’m…I’m not sure. Instead of dwelling on it, I shove the nasty feeling to the back of my mind as I speed up, but I know I’ll have to deal with it sooner rather than later. It feels like I’m running away from something; maybe it’s the trith I’ve been looking for, but why wouldn’t I want to face that? Running my fingers through my hair, I groan out loud, my frustration getting the best of me.

Things have become…really complicated since I met Julius.

It’s usually a 20 minute walk to Julius’ place from Alvin and Jude’s, but as I stand in front of a familiar apartment complex, it feels like I’ve gotten there in half that time. I guess being so lost in thought sped things up. As soon as I’m inside, I ignore the elevator since it’s probably broken, and if it’s not, I fear riding it will only result in it breaking down with me inside. Waiting for help is not how I want to spend my afternoon. So, I head up the stairs, and all the while I can’t help but feel a little annoyed.

Julius lives on the 5th floor, and it doesn’t take much time reaching it. I fumble around in my pocket for the spare key he’d given me, and once I find it, I make quick work of unlocking the door. The first thing I see upon entering is Rollo waddling his way over to me, and like always I crouch down to give him a good scratch him behind the ear.

“Hey, Rollo. Is your useless owner around?”

“I heard that,” Julius calls out, and from the sound of it I can tell that he’s in his room.

I snicker while watching him emerge from his bedroom, and like usual he’s wearing one of his weird, far too tight shirts. It’s the one with the cartoonish looking cat face saying ‘fish’ I’d washed yesterday, and seeing it again just makes me snicker. Instead of giving him some kind of teasing comment, I make my way over to the kitchen while asking if he’s eaten anything yet. I feel him behind me just as I’m about to turn the stove on, his body trapping mine as he put both hands on either side of the countertop.

“Actually, I ordered takeout just before you got here, so you get the evening off.”

“Oh really? What’s the special occasion?”

I feel him hum against my neck, and I shudder as he runs his lips along my skin. The hands on the counter move to my waist, but from the way he touches me, I know he just wants to fool around. Leaning back against him, I let out a small sigh as he kisses up my neck,

“Think you can keep it in your pants until after dinner?” I ask as Julius’ hand caresses my stomach under my shirt.

“Might be kind of hard,” he mutters against my skin, and all I do is snort.

It’s still hard to believe that he finds me attractive, so much so that keeping his hands to himself is a struggle, but Julius continues to proves that there’s something about me he genuinely likes.

“I know you can do it, then afterwards I’ll be all yours for the rest of the evening…unless you have work later,” I say while turning around, and the look Julius gives me already tells me what I want to know.

“Yeah, I have work later on, and I might not be back till tomorrow afternoon…But I have some time to kill before then,” he says, and the sympathetic smile on his lips does nothing to ease my disappointment.

When it comes to Julius, I want to be selfish, I want to monopolize all his time just… _just because_. It’s a strange thing to admit, but being around Julius makes me admit some strange as Hell things. He kisses me, and I don’t hesitate for a second to return it, my arms wrap around his neck so I can pull him closer. I know this is his way of apologizing, and it’d be petty of me to be annoyed with him over something he doesn’t have full control over, so I simply huff.

“Come on, let’s watch a movie before the food gets here,” he says against my lips, and reply with a small ‘okay’.

He leads me to the couch by my wrist, and once seated, I rest my head on his shoulder as I tell him whatever he chooses is fine. Julius puts on a random horror movie, but about 10 minutes later we’re both laughing at the cheesy effects and dialogue. It takes another 10 for us to start fooling around; I straddle his lap as he kisses me roughly, my ass grinding against his crotch. I was serious about him holding out till after dinner, but that doesn’t stop me from teasing him.

I usually hate dirty talk, but the way Julius whispers in my ear, voice deep as he holds my hips tight, turns me on. Running my fingers through his hair, I kiss him hard, because if he keeps talking the way he is, my resolve is going to break. The hands on my hips slide down to my ass, and I let out a low groan as he squeezes my cheeks. I shudder as he kneads my rear end, and in turn I roll my hips against Julius’ crotch, a desperate growl escaping Julius as he holds my ass tighter.

Even in my lust filled haze, I can make out a noise that’s practically begging for attention. I ignore it for a couple of seconds before finally giving in, and I’m not at all surprised to see that Rollo has hopped up on the couch. He paws at my pant leg, meowing loudly as he gives me a look that could be described as ‘worry’. Usually Rollo ignored the two of us, opting to leaving the room rather than stare at us, but sometimes either me or Julius make the wrong noise and he becomes very concerned for our well-being.

It’s cute, which is why I can never bring myself to be mad at him.

“It’s okay, Rollo, he’s not hurting me,” I say while rubbing his head, and he just meows loudly in return.

“I’ll take that as a cue to stop,” he mutters against my neck, and his hands remain on my ass for a few seconds before moving.

We decide to go back to the movie, and I make myself comfortable between his legs, my back pressing against his back as I relax. Our little make out session made us miss part of the movie, so I have no idea what’s going on, but that seems to make it even funnier. The food comes a half an hour later, and I’m so glad once Julius turns off that godawful movie.

Julius grabs the plates from the cabinet while I get the silver wear, and I can’t help but muse how domestic it all seems. But the thought causes me pause, my chest tightening suddenly. Right...I’m supposed to talk to Julius about this… _thing_ between us. I don’t realize I’m just standing holding silver wear until I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I can’t help but jump a little.

“You okay?” Julius asks, and I just quickly nod my head.

“S-Sorry, I was just thinking about something,” I say while giving him an awkward smile.

He gives me a weird look, but doesn’t say anything and instead sets the table. I sit across from him, my left hand slipping under to the table to tightly grip my pant leg. How the Hell am I supposed to bring the issue up? Picking at my food, I glance between my plate and Julius, and my thoughts begin to jump all over the place. What should I say? What am I supposed to do once he answers? What’s he going to say? Maybe I should just…hold off on it.

I finally focus on Julius once he clears his throat.

“So, I wanted to ask you-”

“What are we?”

I quickly cover my mouth and stare at Julius, who just stares back in confusion.

“I’m…not sure what you mean,” Julius says slow, and it takes me a moment to regain my composure so I can speak.

“I mean, what kind of relationship do we have? Are we just fuck buddies, or do you… _like_ me? Either is okay, really!” god, I hate how quickly I’m talking, but I don’t think I can stop. “Er, you don’t have to say anything if you think it’s weird. Sorry, I know I’m rambling like an idiot, I’ve just been thinking about you a lot lately, er, I mean, us. Well, I _do_ think about you a lot, but saying it out loud sounds kind of strange. All of this probably sounds strange to you, right? You know what? Forget I mentioned anything, I’m being really stupid-”

“I like you, so I figured we were dating.”

I finally shut my mouth, and it’s only now that I notice that my face feels like it’s on fire. Julius quirks a brow at me, and he looks far more amused with me than anything else. It’s not hard to see why since I _was_ rambling like an idiot. I try to control my fidgeting as the full weight of his words begins to sink in, and I feel the heat from my face begin to spread to the tips of my ears.

Julius…likes me. He seriously said he likes me, and not in a ‘I like to fuck you’ kind of way. He has _romantic_ feelings for me, it’s hard for me to really grasp that. As much as I hate to admit it, Alvin was right, I do have shit self-esteem, so I can’t see what Julius finds worth falling in love with. However, it doesn’t stop the blush on my face from deepening.

He asks if the feeling is mutual, and I hesitate to answer for a second. This confusing, unknown feeling that’s been plaguing me can only be one thing, but instead of bringing me joy, I suddenly feel a sense of dread overtake me. I clench my pant leg as I try and figure out why the thought of romance makes me feel this way…and it suddenly hits me like a ton of bricks.

I’m…a prostitute; I go behind his back to sleep around for money, money I need for my mother. I shouldn’t fall in love, I don’t _deserve_ to. I’m doing something that chips away at me, and I hate how dirty it makes me feel. Julius should date someone cleaner than me, and yet…the thought of be being with someone else leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I hate this…I hate how much I care about him, because I know I shouldn’t. I should’ve ended this once I started to feel something beyond our physical relationship.

But I love him…oh god, I love him.

“Whoa, hey, are you all right?” I hear Julius say, and I don’t realize I’m crying until I feel him wipe away the wetness from my cheek with his thumb.

“I…” my voice is ragged and barely above a whisper, and I flinch at the sound of it. “I like you, I like you so much, but…but you deserve someone so much better than me.”

“Ludger-”

“You deserve someone who isn’t whoring themselves out for money.”

I feel his hand leave my face, and the lack of touch makes me shrink in my seat. He probably doesn’t want me anymore, and who can blame him after hearing that? It’s stupid of me to tell him, but I want him to understand why this can’t work. Hell, he might take me down to the station any second now, and I won’t even put up a fight if he does.

My body tenses up at the sound of a chair scooting back, and I brace for whatever is coming. From the corner of my eye I see Julius kneel at my side, and his hand gently touches the balled-up fist on my lap. It takes a second for it relax, and without missing a beat, Julius takes my hand into his.

“Is…someone forcing you to?” he asks, and all I can do is shake my head. “Then why?”

Giving him the reason would sound like an excuse, even if I’m doing it for someone else. Things go silent other than my occasional sniffles, because no matter how much I want to stop, the tears just keep flowing. I sometimes feel Julius squeeze my hand, and I wonder what he’s thinking about as he does so. I want him to say something, anything, just so I know what I should do. If he wants me to leave I will, especially since I can’t fathom why he’d want me around right now.

I jump upon hearing Julius’ phone go off, and he seems to hesitate releasing my hand so he can answer it. I didn’t want him to let him…but if it’s work, he needs to deal with it. Leaning against the table, I bury my face in my arms, and even though it’s a little muffled, I can hear Julius talking. I have little interest in following the conversation, but my interest peaks once I hear the shuffle of clothing. Is he…going to leave? This thought just causes my tears to flow even more, because I don’t want to be left alone with my thoughts.

“Hey…” I hear Julius say followed by the feel of his hand on my back, “there’s an emergency so they need me over at the station, we’ll…we’ll talk about things when I get back, okay?”

Glancing over, I see him give me a small smile, but there’s a glint of something in his eyes that I just can’t put my finger on. It makes me bury my face deeper into my arms, though I still nod so he knows I’m listening. His hand lingers on my back, but I tense up once it’s gone. I bite down on my bottom lip to keep myself from asking him to stay, from blurting out that I don’t care if he’s angry, I just don’t want him to leave.

As soon as the door closes, I crumple to the floor, and I’d curl up into a little ball if I had the energy to. I can hear myself sobbing, but other than that I can’t make out anything else that’s going on around me. It’s like I’m in a fog, and as I flip between feeling everything or feeling numb, I know I deserve this. _All_ of this. Selfishness has consequences, and I have to face them now. I like Julius, I wasn’t supposed to, but I do…and the feeling is mutual. I sell my body for money, and every time I sleep with a random person, I’m cheating on Julius, there’s no other way to put it.

I hate this…

I hate this, I hate this, _I hate this_ , **_I want to die_**. I. Hate. This.

I apparently cried myself to sleep, because the apartment is completely dark once I open my eyes. I feel something soft against my cheek, and it takes me a second to realize that it’s Rollo pawing at my cheek. I let out a bitter, raspy laugh, and it sounds horrible to me. Reaching over, I scratch him under the chin and behind his ears, and it’s enough to make him lie down next to me. My body doesn’t want to move, so I just let Rollo’s heat warm my chest up. I know Julius isn’t home because he would’ve at least moved me to the bed or couch, so I’m still alone, save for the fat cat curled up against me.

“I guess it’s just the two of us…” I say, and Rollo meows like he understands.

I should probably get up, because the floor is really uncomfortable. But I still don’t move, and the low hum from the air conditioner is soothing. Falling asleep again sounds nice, but Rollo keeps pawing at my cheek, meowing loudly as he does so. I feel dumb that it takes so long for me to figure out…he’s hungry. I might be going through a crisis, but I’m not going to let him starve. It takes a second for me to roll over on my stomach, and another few to finally get myself off the floor.

I feel unsteady as I walk, and it takes me getting Rollo’s food out from the cabinet for me to realize I’m shaking. With shaky hands, I fill his bow up about half way, and I briefly think about sitting down next to him. No, I’m going to go lie down it might as well be on the couch. My body feels heavy as I cross the distance between the kitchen and living room, and as I plop down on the couch, I wonder what Julius will do once he gets back.

He probably won’t say anything to me for a minute or two, then ask for his key back and tell me to never come back. I cheated on him…I used his position as a cop to make sure I didn’t get caught…kicking me out is the least he could do. Maybe he’ll yell at me, call me a slut while scowling. And I wouldn’t say a thing because he’d be right.

Burying me face in the cushion, I feel like crying again, but I know it’ll do no good to start up another sobbing fit. I need a distraction, something to focus on so my thought can stop turning against me. TV…TV might help. Reaching blindly for the remote, I finally grasp it to turn on Julius’ television. The time flashes in the corner, and I’m surprised to see that it’s 6 PM. That’s around the time I arrived at the apartment, so that means I must be the next day and I’ve been asleep for a while. I mindlessly flip through channels because nothing catches my eye, so I end up switching to the news.

Might as well watch the world go to shit to distract form the fact that my life is. I watch as the new anchors go over the traffic, then the weather before going into the top stories. The first is about a lost dog being found, followed by the story of a missing girl being found alive after being gone for 20 days. The next story perks my interest; apparently, there was a hostage situation downtown the previous day, and a lone gunman had held up a bank and was using one of the tellers as a shield.

Since the report says it took some time for the police to devise a plan to take the gunman down, so I guess that’s why Julius hasn’t come back yet. The anchor says something about injured officers, and time seems to slows down. Injured…? Julius could be- no…no, no, no, I’m not going to think like that. He’s fine, he’s going to come back so we can talk, he can’t…he can’t be hurt, or _worse_. Gripping the couch cushion, I watch as the anchor goes over each name while a picture of the officer flashes on the screen.

And then I see it.

_‘ **Julius Wi Bakur** – **Hospitalized** ’_

I stare at the screen even as his picture disappears, and I suddenly feel very lightheaded. Julius is…hurt. He’s in the hospital. He could be dying, and I’m…I’m just sitting here confused. No, I’m scared too. I’m god, I’m scared. I don’t even realize I’ve gotten off the couch until I’m standing in front of the door. Once outside the apartment, I make sure to lock it, and I stare at the wood for a few seconds before bolting.

I just…go. I bolt out of the apartment complex and make my way down the street. I know I bump into some people, but everything is a blur, and I don’t even feel it when I hit the ground after tripping over something. My lungs burn, and even though my legs are in the same state, they keep going. The only thing going through my mind is Julius. I want to see him, I want to apologize to him for being a shitty person. I want…I want to tell him I love him with no ‘buts’ attached.

Eventually I stop in front of the hospital, and I have to lean against the building in order to catch my breath. This pain is nothing, I have to see him, so this pain isn’t going to stop me. Gritting my teeth, I limp through the hospital doors and make a beeline for the reception desk. The person working there gives me an odd look, and I’m sure I look a mess so I can’t blame them. I’m still a little out of breath, so I take a moment to collect myself.

“Sir…are you all right? Do you need medical assistance?” they ask, and I shake my head.

“I-I’m looking for someone. Jul- , I mean, Officer Bakur. He was admitted yesterday,” I pant out, and the receptionist gives me another wary look before typing something on their computer.

“He is here, but unfortunately only family is allowed-”  

“I-I’m his younger brother.”

The words just roll off my tongue, and I can’t help but find them stupid since Julius and I look _nothing_ alike. The receptionist just stares, and after what feels like forever, they pinch the brim of their nose and sigh heavily. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but I very much need it to be the former. They tell me point blank they it’s clear I’m lying, but add that anyone who came in my condition just to see someone isn’t going to take no for an answer. I mean…it’s true.

The sign it sheet is slide over to me, and I shakily write my name down while ignoring the sting from my scrapped hand. I’m given a visitation badge with the floor and room number where Julius is, and I thank the receptionist for helping me out. I take the elevator up to the fourth floor, and after wandering for a bit, I manage to find the right room. I place my hand on the handle but stop, and I quickly remove my hand as if its been burned.

Why am I hesitating now…? I wanted this, and yet…I’m still scared of what might be on the other side of this door. Granted this isn’t the ICU, but Julius could still be in bad shape, and if he’s relatively okay, would…would he even want to see me? I immediately pinch myself, because I know I have to deal with whatever is to come. Taking a deep breath, I grab the handle again, though I’m not brave enough to bust into the room, so I slip inside with my head down.

I gently close the door behind me before leaning against it, and as I look up, I see Julius lying down in bed with his arm over slung over his face. I make a small noise to get his attention, and he peeks out from under his arm before quickly sitting upright. I immediately feel regret the moment he grabs his side in pain, and without thinking I rush over to him.

Before my hand touches him, I pull it away, because I’m not sure I have the right to touch him. I watch as he takes a few long breaths, the hand at his side slowly lowering.

“You look like shit,” Julius says, and it takes me a few seconds to crack a smile.

“You’re one to talk,” I mutter, and as soon as our eyes meet, I look away.

“I definitely feel like shit…one gunshot wound, a fractured rib, and a couple of nasty bruises will do that to you.” he snorts, though the smile on his face falters a bit. “Sorry…I wanted to call and tell you what happened, but-”

“It’s okay, you…you’re okay,” is all I can say, though the worry inside me hasn’t calmed down.

He reaches over to gently take my hand, and I do everything within my power to not pull away. Julius is okay…so we should talk. Even if I’ve accepted that something would happen, something I might not like, I’m still nervous. Julius motions for me to sit on the edge of his bed, and I do, but with my back facing him. I fidget a bit, my mind a jumbled mess as I try and figure out how to start.

“…About what I said yesterday…” I mutter, the words making me wince slightly.

“Right, that…” he says, and I feel him shift behind me. A silence fills the room, and I can’t help but feel uncomfortable, “to tell you the truth, I knew _something_ was up. You’d come over smelling like sex, and I just figured you were doing your own thing. I never thought…”

You never though the guy you liked was doing something illegal.

“I don’t know what to think…I’m a cop who takes his duties seriously, so the by the book action would be to arrest you. But, the part of me that cares about you feels like you’ve got some personal reason for what you’re doing, something that back you into a corner. I figured you’re doing it for someone, because you’re a selfless guy-”

I’m not, I’m a shitty, selfish bastard.

“I know you’re a good person, Ludger-”

I’m not, I’m a horrible excuse of a person.

“But this whole thing is pretty fucked up, and I’m not okay with what you’re doing. Yesterday when I left, I was so pissed with you that I could barely think straight,” he doesn’t sound angry, which is surprising, but I he certainly isn’t happy. “and then it dawned on me. I wasn’t upset because of what you’re doing, but the fact that you could easily get yourself killed. _That_ _scares the shit out of me, Ludger_. You might’ve been lucky so far, but all it takes it one time, _one_ time and…fucking Hell, I don’t even want to think about it.”

Looking over my shoulder, I see him gripping the blanket that covers his lower half tightly, and to see his face twisted with so many emotions makes me quickly look away. I made him look like that, _me_ , and that fact just makes me hate myself even more.

“I’ll…leave if you want, I’ll give you back your apartment key and never come back. You shouldn’t have to deal with someone like me, you deserve-”

“No.”

“…What?”

“I said no. Every logical fiber in my body is telling me to end this, but I don’t want you to leave.”

I turn to the side to look at him, and I’m so dumbfound that I can’t figure out what to say. How can he say something like that and look so conflicted? And worse yet, I know that look he’s giving me; it’s the same stupidly stubborn look he gets whenever he’s dead-set on something. I let out a bitter, harsh laugh, because I can’t understand what Julius is doing.

“I came in here expecting to be rejected, and then you pull this. Oh god, you don’t…you don’t even know how terrible I am, but you still want to keep me around? As much as I like you, I’m so fucked up, Julius, you don’t need that in your life. You deserve-”

“ _Stop telling me what I ‘deserve’, Ludger_. That’s my decision to make, and for the record, I’m probably just as terrible as you are.”

“Liar.”

“I’ve fucked over a lot of people to get my position, and I didn’t care about them one bit.” I watch as his face fills with what is probably regret. “Worst part? I did it because I wanted to show my piece of shit father that I wasn’t weak, and screwing people over gave me some kind of weird sense of superiority. Pretty fucked up, right?”

It is, and I’m left unsure of what to say. We’re both really messed up, and there’s something a little funny about that. No good can come from two shitty people being together, but it certainly can’t make the situation worse. I wonder if it’s okay for me to touch him now, and my fingers twitch a little at the thought. Getting a little closer to him, I press my forehead against his shoulder. We don’t say anything, and for once the silence that hangs in the air isn’t heavy.

“…Before everything went to Hell yesterday, I was going to ask you to move in with me,” Julius mutters against my hair, and I tense up a bit.

So, that’s what the special occasion was. I wonder what the me at that time would say; would it be different, or would I break down like I did before? It doesn’t take me long to realize that it doesn’t matter, because the me now is all that matters.

“Do you still want me to?” I say while turning my head towards him ever so slightly.

“Yeah, I do.”

I’ll…I’ll take him up on that offer. I can’t promise him that I’ll stop whoring myself out, because my mother and my well-being still comes before anything else. But I can figure something out. It might not be perfect or something he likes, but I’ll try because…I want to keep this one, selfish thing in my life.


End file.
